


A Spark, Remembrance

by the_lost_robot



Series: The Lost Bot [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers: War for Cybertron
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Pre-War, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 13:52:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_lost_robot/pseuds/the_lost_robot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the darkness of Shockwave's lair, one captive Autobot unravels the truth of the war as he is forced to recall all incarnations of his existence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coherant: Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Continuity: Alternate universe. Draws concepts from TF:A, 2007 movie, G1, IDW, Fall of Cybertron and a whole mess of fanon that I've absorbed. The events of ROTF and DOTM are not complaint with the continuity but that won't stop me merging aspects from it.  
> Characters: Prowl, Shockwave (Eventual canon ensemble), OCs  
> Disclaimer: Not mine  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: A Spark, Remembrance  
> Story arc: A Spark, Coherent  
> Chapter One
> 
> Characters: Prowl, Shockwave, OCs for plot related purposes  
> Summary: In which a spark onlines to its second go at life and a medic, a scientist and an enforcer receive the strangest charge

**Chapter One**

 

 

"You have something that I need,” Shockwave stared down at him, his single yellow optic flickering. A system glitch? Insanity? He couldn’t tell. “I’m so close to achieving true freedom.”

He forced himself to speak. It wasn’t as simple as it once had been but he did it nonetheless to remind himself he still had some control.                                                                                                                 

_Error: access to vocaliser disabled. Incorrect access codes._

The correct access codes of course were attached to the previous line of Decepticon restrictive programming, quarantined away from his base codes and unable to escape. The new lines that Shockwave had just inputted circled his firewalls, trying to break them down. Carefully he wrote his own access codes, firewalled them, and then transmitted it to his vocalisers. It would take several breems for the restriction codes to decipher the simple program and then destroy it but it would be suffice. There was no reason to compromise himself by writing a piece of complex code that Shockwave could study and use to breach his firewalls.

He did not know how many vorns it had been since his capture (he would not risk himself to access his chronometer) but he’d existed in the continuous agony of an overworked processor. The combat between the restriction coding trying to control and his attempts to free himself in the same set of circuits constantly melted some of his components down. Often, the Decepticon programming was the victor in control but it never managed to embed itself into his core codes like it was supposed to and he kept degrading it down from behind the safety of his firewalls. The result was a spectacularly glitched mech that certainly was not what Soundwave and Shockwave had expected from their experiment.

“I’m certain that after all this time all my information on the Autobots is outdated,” it was a relief to hear his own voice, for too long all he’d heard from his vocalizer was the twisted mockery they had given him with the restriction coding.

“You mistake my intent,” Shockwave replied, “I have never cared for the Decepticons or the Autobots. The war was simply a part of my builders’ designs. Now the next stage of their plan is so close, I know that I will soon be redundant.”

The scientist reached down carefully and pulled a patch of protective plating away from his helm. A lifetime ago, that action should have been excruciating painful but the lack of repair and maintenance had killed the nanites there and it was simply another dead part of his neural net.

“It should not bother me,” Shockwave continued, “They made me to for one purpose only and that was to see the downfall of Cybertron and the enslavement of your kind again. The timescale of this project was always outside my projected lifespan. And yet I have outlived it several times over. If anything, I should be satisfied to see the results of my efforts.

But I am not.”

Shockwave felt around and found a cable that connected to a nearby terminal; the scientist was being oddly conversational.

“Then, you are a true drone?” the prisoner asked, there was a terrible suspicion growing inside him that he was trying his best to deny because if he was right, then his people are in far greater trouble than their civil war and the threat of extinction the loss of the Allspark has dealt them.

“Originally,” Shockwave typed a few commands into the terminal’s holographic interface. “A true drone would not be bothered by imminent deactivation for the completion of its function. I find myself…dissatisfied with such an outcome. Therefore, I will seek the answers I need from your spark.”

“I don’t think hacking my processors will help you there. My spark and my processors are two separate things.”

“The knowledge is not within your processors but I need them to decipher your spark code. My studies of your kind reveal that it is possible for sparks to retain memories from previous existences. Your frequencies match what my builders have on file and I **remember** your spark. I killed your previous incarnation on the builders’ orders. Now, however, I seek to rectify that error, there was much I could learn from you.”

“You have yet to breach my firewalls,” he pointed out coolly, determined not to let this new piece of information faze him, though he dedicated several hundred subroutines to disseminate it and its implications.

“You mistake me for Soundwave, I have never cared whether you were properly converted to the Decepticon cause or not,” Shockwave plugged in the terminal cable straight into an exposed port in his cranial case. “This has been my objective all along. I have been gathering data on your systems for hundreds of vorns, even all the time you spent scouting in deep space on that useless mission Starscream sent you on. Now we shall see how you fare against my analysis.”

On that ominous note, all the captive mech’s processes were immediately diverted to his firewalls, pulling up every trick he knew against the input of the new program. It tore into his defences, seeped into his circuits and he could feel its relentless commands to **remember**.

He doesn’t want to.

He has lived a long life. There are things he doesn’t want to remember and things that he does regardless. The memories of his life prior his own reprogramming haunts both him and the Autobots that knew him before and after constantly. Then there were the flashes of spark memory, of a lifetime that he has once lived and was determined to never let shape him anymore than it already had.

By his own understanding, he has lived two times already and sometimes his cynicism subroutines likened his current coerced tenure as a Decepticon as his fourth.

He does not want to remember. A crack opens in his firewalls, impenetrable for so long but failing at last and he recoils as the virus snakes a line of code inside him. In the astrosecond it takes for him to process this, he frantically spins off a program to divert it.

_Accessing memory core._

Shockwave wanted him to remember. He had several lifetimes to choose from and Shockwave had failed to specify which one.

 

_He remembers his first onlining to his second life._

The sudden spark of awareness, of self, of living, of his frame, that he can think and process and _be_. An overload of impressions as his processors tries to adjust the change from the state of not being to sudden existence.

-I’m bringing the XD995 online-

It takes him an astrosecond to understand, the code that crawls through his processors are foreign and unfamiliar. Then his databanks provide context, communication, words and the concept of something that is not himself. A system check reveals that he is an XD995 frametype, and he is pleased (happiness, an emotional sub-routine, one that feels good and he would like to feel again) to deduce that something is referring to him. He is then promptly distracted and intrigued by the self-diagnostic function and quickly runs it.

_Optical sensors. Status: disabled._

_Audio receivers. Status: disabled_

_Thermal sensors. Status: disabled._

_Pressure sensors. Status: disabled._

_Comm system. Status: disabled._

_Locomotion system. Status : disabled._

-I’m about to activate your optical sensors as a test- the code signature attracts his attention and he feels the changes in his software, as a section of himself that he couldn’t feel before is suddenly there. –Access your optics sensors, set them up for wavelengths from 100 nanometres to 10 micrometres long. Those are the default settings most mechs set them on but you might choose to adjust them in future for whatever preference you have. Set up at least three dedicated separate sub-routines to handle the input from your optics.-

He reached into the unlocked sector of his processors and followed the instructions. Two astroseconds later, the foreign processor unblocked several programs and suddenly he could _see._

There had been no concepts of light or dark or colour prior, for the few previous moments he had existed in the bliss of sedate binary coding within his own processors but now he was truly aware of the concept of outside, could apply it to things that are not him. There are objects, a million different colours and textures and his databanks struggled at the quick influx, a continuous stream of pre-loaded information all clamouring for his attention so that he can understand.

A shape (a mech, (like him), more specifically of the medic function (not like him)) shifts slightly. He focuses on the medic and realises that a (cable) from the medic’s red(wrist port) is connected to his (shoulder port). Another mech _moves_ (the idea of movement is fascinating and he is frustrated to remember that his locomotion are locked by a medical override) and stands in front of him and part of him is awed (the place that seems to know so much about the world). He however disagreed with this assessment, there is nothing present at the moment that deemed a response from that emotional subroutine; no matter how enamoured he is with movement. (In the astrosecond it had taken for him to incorporate the concept, he had grasped that it was something very basic.)

That is a PRIME, his databanks protested, and the historical background and cultural knowledge that they impart implies to him that reverence is the correct and required response to the title. He ignored it and terminated the inappropriate emotional subroutine. He does not know this mech yet and will not award random responses until he has enough knowledge to determine which would be the correct one.

-I’ve never seen a spark so sceptical in its first moments of onlining,- the words scroll through his processors, the medic, he deduces, connected to him by the interface cable.

-Correct, that’s me in your processors. Designation’s Solder and I am the medic in charge of the newly sparked. You’re the last one today; I’m going to activate the rest of your systems and once you are comfortable with them, the Prime has a speech for you and the others.-

The mention of others directs his attention back to his optics and while the medic moves around his circuits, he takes the opportunity to look around from his frozen position. There is a line of mechs next to him, all the same pale grey but the frametypes varied into three different models. There were the ST144s (scientist class), the LK288s (heavy industry frame types) and his own XD995 model (one of the many popular civilian lines). The Prime (and he firmly squashed the…nonsense sensibilities the preprogramming evoked, the responses were not logical when he knew so little) stood before them, waiting patiently.

-You’re quite strongly decided for a new spark,- Solder noted as his locked systems slowly begin to come online. –Although admittedly I do think the code mechs were a little zealous when it came to the datafiles about the Primes. New sparks shouldn’t be influenced like that.-

The other mechs (new sparked like him, he realised, brought online in the temple of the Allspark by the Prime to take up a valued function, that’s what is going on) are all still but Prime shifts minutely again, changing his weight and suddenly he is impatient to have his locomotion circuits active, to be able to _move_ and be able to do _things_.

-Well, isn’t that interesting,- the medic retreated from his mind and then disconnected the cable from his shoulder. “We should have this XD995 checked for coherency. It was far too impatient and opinionated to be a new spark. Didn’t like all the preprogrammed Prime propaganda and wanted to get a move on with things.”

Sound. A new input, one that had been locked before. The medic had calibrated the settings already; the test with his optics had been for his benefit, to give him an understanding of his systems. He could move now, the urge to stretch his frame out and gain of measure of understanding of his systems was strong but a sense of decorum (previously unknown) stopped him.

ldquo;Fascinating,” the Prime said. He moved forward until he stood before him. A designation ping gave him a name, Zeta Prime. They are close enough that he can feel Zeta’s EM field, the unique frequencies that only a matrix beater had that focused on him with sudden intensity.

There was a shift in his spark, acknowledgement and a very vague recognition in response to the quantum threads that pulled at him. Strange. His databanks had no answer for this, he could not have existed before this onlining and a new spark could not _remember_ things-

“Zeta?” Solder did not feel the majority of the EM interaction but he could tell that something was not right.

“Very curious,” the Prime moved back. “The Matrix knows of this spark but there are no corresponding or direct datafiles attached to it. Almost like it was shielded or altered every time the Matrix encountered it. Probably a cautious, very old spark and very likely one that was never recorded. A coherency test will probably establish that we have a mature spark here but no matches in the records.”

Coherency, his databanks have something to work with now, a strange but scientifically proven phenomenon. The Allspark is a quantum link to Primus and the unique metals it was built from made it a receptacle for spark energy. When a mech died, the free energy is drawn back to the Allspark where the passage of time would break down the frequencies the spark had established over its lifetime. But older sparks were more set in their frequencies and required longer to revert to a blank spark state. Sometimes those sparks were drawn to a new frame, still possessing remnants of their previous life. A spark’s full spectrum was determined by the events of its life, other sparks it had bonded to, its experiences and knowledge, therefore each was unique. Portions of a coherent spark would sometimes match those already on record.

Part of his spark carried memories of someone else’s lifetime. Such a strange concept when he had only been online for such a short amount of time. A touch on his shoulder plater diverted his attention before he could dedicate his processors to the conundrum.

-Don’t think too much about it,- the medic advised over an comm channel. –Whoever you were, you are a new person now. You are who you want to be.-

Zeta Prime straightened, the simple movement somehow commanding the attention of the room. “It was my pleasure,” the Prime began, “To call all your sparks forth from the Allspark. The gift of life is a precious thing; all of you here will be given the time and opportunity to reach your full potential as you take your place in society. It will be a pleasure watching you grow and mature and decide the paths your lives shall takes.”

Efficiency. Something he decided that he would appreciate. Solder straightened and pinged an _everyone-follow-me_ signal as he headed for the temple door. The relief he felt when he started moving was ridiculously overblown and he examined his emotional sub-routines carefully. Apparently he’d been _bored_ , which didn’t make much sense given how little ceremony the Prime had made over the batch onlining (and now he officially was annoyed with his emotive databanks, given how they disappointed were over the lack of fanfare. The information inside them was very useful but they shouldn’t have been programmed with opinions.)

Solder lead them into a simple side room and waited patiently for them (25 newly sparked, he was sure to count) to file in. Three mechs were already inside, one was an enormous dark brown LK288 mech with one hand modified into a drill (a material extractor, more precisely), the second had a slightly larger than average XD995 frame (a function ping and the black colour scheme told him the mech was an enforcer) and the last was a ST144 much smaller than his counterparts.

“Alright,” Solder said briskly, “You were all brought online for different reasons. However, please note that you are not required to go ahead with these functions. You will be given time to adjust to your frame and to determine who you are and what you want to do and you will be assigned mentors to help determine that. Choice is something we all have and new sparks are not to be pressured into anything they do not want to do under the law. That being said, onlining only occurs when there is space in the population to allow for it. Fifteen sparks were brought online because a new colony is being set up in Penticase quadrant. Five were brought online because the Praxus city state recently lost a few Enforcers. The remaining five were for the Science academy. No one will begrudge you if you choose to do something else.”

The thought of sitting around, doing nothing but constantly interacting with other mechs while he waited for his personality coding to develop so he could decide what he wanted to do with himself was incredibly boring.

“I’m going to assign you temporary designations, please update your registries with them. When your personality matrix is developed enough, you may choose one more befitting.”

A designation ping against his sensor net informed him he was to be referred to as XD99525, a combination of his model number and the order of his onlining within the batch. He updated his registries and felt the change in his processors now that he had an identifier. He sent a ping to his batchmates requesting their designations as apparently that was the polite courtesy according to his databanks. Social conformity was important for a smooth running and civilised society, after all.

“Now, I’ll let your mentors get you settled. I’ll be checking your development over the next two vorns. Enjoy your functioning.”

Solder left the room as the material extractor move forward. A data ping identified him as Twist Drill. “Immobilizer, Gear-Tech and I will be your primary mentors,” the behemoth’s faceplates moved in a way that apparently equated to a ‘smile.’ “I know Solder said that the choice is yours but that doesn’t mean we can’t expose you to our functioning. Well. I can’t, there aren’t any mines near Iacon.”

He paused, evidently waiting for some sort of a response. When none of his batchmates responded, XD99525 tilted his helm and observed flatly, “That was an attempt of humour.”

His vocaliser’s default setting was a dull monotone and one that he immediately decided was unsuited for him. XD99525 set himself a reminder to have that corrected when he had the chance.

“Query: what is the purpose of humour?” XD99521 asked. “My databanks explain the concept but I am unable to find a valid explanation for it.”

24 out the 28 mechs in the room all added their approval for the question. “Humour?” Tech Gear spoke up, “Why, humour is a cognitive response to certain experiences in which mechs tend to apply their amusement subroutine.”

There was a pause. “Query: why?” LK28812 asked. “How does one determine which sub-routine to apply in a given situation? What makes one situation ‘sad’ and another ‘happy?’”

The three mentors exchanged glances. “This might take a while to explain,” Twist Drill said. “Why don’t we go out and explore Iacon?”

“Observation: Material extractor Twist Drill is changing the topic and avoiding the question.”

 

Iacon was a dizzying rush of new inputs, new experiences. They had spent several orns in one of the parks, just watching and observing society as their mentors patiently fielded questions. While the databanks provided them information, they did not provide enough in depth context for the newly sparked to rely on them solely. Their mentors had experiences and understanding that they would impart and help bridge that gap in their education.

“Berths are an unnecessary extravagance,” XD99525 insisted. This was an opinion that his batchmates shared. “To recharge, a unit only needs a power cable. An entire structure dedicated to allow a mech to lie down and plug in is a waste of resources and material, when one can simply initiate a frame lockdown.”

“It’s a personal preference,” Immobilizer explained. “Some mechs don’t like frame lockdowns, they don’t like letting up control of their frame even if they are shut down.”

“Objection: that statement is illogical,” ST14418 responded. “A mech that has shut down his systems for recharge has no control over their frame.”

Twist Drill rubbed his helm. “It’s like paint preference,” he said.

Paint preference was Twist Drill’s excuse for things that did not make sense, the batch had discovered early on. What made one colour better than another varied immensely from mech to mech and yet there was no quantifiable reason for the difference. To the batch, their uniform grey was acceptable but apparently to other mechs it was far too drab and dull.

“Paint preference is illogical,” XD99525 retorted, feeling something very much like frustration in his spark.

Immobilizer sighed in exasperation, then his helm snapped towards XD99525 as their sparks shifted in response to each other, quantum threads brushing in gentle questioning. The rest of the mechs felt it in the EM fields and the batch perked in interest to this new phenomenon.

“What,” XD99525 said, frame stiffening, “Is that?”

“Spark interaction,” Tech Gear spoke up. “Our society is built upon layers and layers on social bonds, both at the spark level and on the intellectual. As mechs interact with each other, their sparks naturally adjusts their frequencies to be better in tune. Batches normally form their primary sparked network with each other and their mentors. It’s how a city made of millions of mechs exists in harmony, every spark on some level is connected.”

XD99525 studied Immobilizer intently; the enforcer stared back with a hard, blank gaze, fields neural. Very carefully he felt the other spark attune to him and for a brief moment, he was _aware_ of Immobilizer, of his dedication to justice and the law, his love for a particular style of music, his interests in various cybertronian martial arts and his gently bubbling amusement and fondness for the batch. And beyond him, thousands of other sparks shining bright, connected to Immobilizer on the quantum level.

It’s too sudden, too intimate. XD99525 recoiled backwards both physically and on the spark deep level and the connection snapped. The backlash resonated through his frame and distress bled out into his field. For several moments he fought to get his responses under his control, fingers were clenched into fists as his frame shook helplessly. There had been _too many_ and there had been no way to shield himself, no way to stop them from looking back into him.

“I’m sorry,” the glyph that Immobilizer used indicated sorrow from a spark deep level and his field reflected his regret, “The mentoring datafiles all seemed to agree that unfiltered sharing with new sparks was educative and comforting. I did not know that it would be a cause for distress.”

To his confusion, XD99525’s databanks agreed with this assessment, sharing spark frequencies and wireless networks helped development as the raw influx of new information had already been processed by other, more capable processors and experiences could be shared on a real time scale. The lack of privacy _shouldn’t_ have bothered him, as new sparks didn’t have a ready sense of self to protect.

“Query: cause of XD99525’s distress?” ST14415 asked.

“I was not ready for it,” he answered honestly. “In future networking, I will endeavour not to be surprised so easily.”

And just like that, the batch accepted his excuse and moved on to the next curiosity. The three mentors gazed at him with concern before Twist Drill and Tech Gear turned their attention to the relentless questions. XD99525 stared back at Immobilizer, unsure why he felt so uncomfortable until the realisation of what he’d just done caught up with him.

It had been terrifying, allowing so many unknown sparks access to him and he could not comprehend why mechs would grant strangers unrestricted access to their systems. Part of him had already made the decision to never repeat the experience.

Which meant that he’d just lied to his batch and mentors.

 

“Are you sure?” ST14415 didn’t express any disappointment at his refusal to join the batch network (not a sparked one, but a joining of processors on the wireless level, a closed grid). “Tech Gear let us into his grid and there were so many minds. All thinking, all processing at the same time, coming up with new theories and ideas. When I was in there I could feel my processors changing, so many things that didn’t make sense before, I could understand.”

XD99525 repressed a flare of frustration in his field as he stood inside the quarters he’d been assigned. His batchmates had taken to sharing with all the enthusiasm he lacked and were determined to make him a part of the experience. He kept feeling requests pinging on his datanet and every moment spent in close contact he kept receiving quantum brushes against his spark.

“I’m very certain,” he answered. He had finally found a setting on his vocaliser that felt right to him and his smooth baritone contrasted greatly with ST14415’s monotone. The rest of the batch had finally stopped vocalizing part of their subroutines with each statement however.

ST14415 studied him carefully. “I do not understand your reservations,” he replied in honest confusion. “We are learning while you are not. Keeping yourself isolated from the grids means that you have removed yourself from the flow of information and without information you cannot develop. None of this is logical. Is it possible that your systems are glitching?”

The insult, intended or not (unlikely, ST14415 did not understand enough to mean it and was simply being honest), jarred him. His optics darkened and his frame stiffened. –Very well,- XD99525 snapped. –I will join you.-

He reached into his wireless subroutines and unlocked them. When the request ping came, he accepted and was drawn into a datastream of code. The sudden press of minds was oppressive but he bore it stoically, keeping himself heavily firewalled against intrusion as he oriented himself.

Eventually he felt comfortable enough to remove his outermost firewalls. What he found was oddly disappointing.

It was so empty.

No brilliant quicksilver thoughts or independent processors working together in harmony, his batch was juvenile and had advanced little more than basic coding. They processed but mostly it was all the same level, far too similar and immature from limited experience and heavily reliant on the same preprogramed information in their databanks to express complex, _true_ thought. They were integrating but progress was so slow it was going to take vorns before there would even be emotion in the networks.

It was at this moment that he realised that his processing was completely different. He held expectations and he felt true disappointment. He didn’t know _why_ though, why the thought of strangers having access to his processors filled him with fear, why his spark flinched and went _wrongwrongwrong_ every time one of the batch tried to acclimate themselves to him.

In a network of 25 processors he suddenly felt incredibly alone.

-XD99525?- LK28802 pinged, unsure why he had not taken down the rest of his firewalls. –Is there a problem?-

Yes, he wanted to say, something is wrong, why are you all so _slow?_ Why do you lean so heavily on the databanks, recycling information again and again in the same processes and why can’t you form opinions and feel frustration?  Instead, he tightly locked that rant away and lowered another set of firewalls (something he just realised none of the other processors here with him even knew how to make).     

To his batch, the appearance of their final member was a novelty they were yet to experience before. They rushed in, with no sense of self they didn’t hesitate to explore every code of his processor. Information, code and datafiles were to be shared so they could all learn, develop and integrate themselves together. But it wasn’t an equal exchange, there was nothing they could give him but they could _take_ and there wasn’t much of him to _give-_

He threw up firewalls and ripped himself from the grid. ST14415 booted up next to him an astrosecond later. “Why did you leave?” the mech asked in confusion, “Your code was new, why didn’t you share it?”

Because it was his and not theirs, XD99525 would have said, but his batch lacked the distinction of self and wouldn’t understand. The need to develop their codes meant as much information input as possible and unspoken was the understanding that they were entitled to that information. But the mentors, the other mechs, they were fully developed and had the datafiles to spare.

He didn’t.

He felt cold, scared, true fear at the almost violation his batch had unwittingly and uncaringly committed.  Without a word, he was on his pedes and out of the room, ignoring ST14415’s calls for him to come back.

He almost walked into Immobilizer as the mech entered the hallway. He almost apologized but the need to get away, leave, go as far away as possible, was stronger. Immobilizer on the other hand, was faster.

The enforcer grabbed a wrist whilst maintaining an acceptable amount of space between them. He studied the mech in his grasp for several moments before saying, “You should talk to Solder.”

The medic. Relief bled into his field. Solder would know what was going on with him. “I’ll come with you,” Immobilizer offered cautiously.

No!

Wait.

Since that disastrous sharing between them, the enforcer had maintained a careful distance. The other mentors had kept trying to encourage him into the networks but Immobilizer alone had recognised his need. He gave an affirmative ping, too overwhelmed to bother with his vocaliser and his mentor lead him out of the apartment that had been allocated to the batch.

He didn’t recall the trip to Solder’s clinic. When he finally came back to himself, a check to his chronometer revealed he’d been there for several orns.

“How are you feeling?” Solder glanced up from his seat. They were in his office and thankfully alone.

“Aware,” he answered sombrely.

A systems check revealed all systems were functioning though still unsettled from the strain of processing the unshielded share. He gazed at the medic suspiciously, Solder would have had ample opportunity to scan his systems while his processor had been recovering himself.

“I wasn’t going to scan you without your consent,” Solder said softly. “Not after what your batch did.”

A confused look prompted him to explain. “They went to Immobilizer; they did not understand why they were denied,” the medic sighed. “In a batch, development normally occurs at the same rate as everything is shared between them. There is no risk of damaging each other because everyone is at the same level. There is no risk to the mentors because they have enough datafiles to make up for the lack of information they are getting through a share.”

“I am different from them,” XD99525 stated simply.

“Yes. I think if I scanned your systems, I would find a vastly developed personality matrix already. You are at the stage where you are aware enough to want and need privacy. But while your sense of self has been developed, theirs haven’t and they did not have the sense to distance themselves.”

"You said my spark was coherent.”

“I’ve been waiting for a specialist to arrive in Iacon since your onlining nine orns ago. He should be here within the next couple of joors actually and we’ll be able to determine what is best for you.”

He thought for a moment. “Tell me about spark coherency.”

“I’m pretty sure the datafiles cover most of it. Your spark still has some of its frequencies set from its previous incarnation. And it has been known to cause mechs to develop faster,” Solder paused then stated, “Immobilizer said you were rejecting every attempt to draw you into a network.”

“It felt wrong,” XD99525 said softly, “Their sparks, the quantum threads were the wrong frequencies. And I felt Immobilizer’s grid when it was unshielded, I didn’t have anything to stop them looking into me.”

“But when you entered the batch grid, you had firewalls to protect you. You figured out how to make them from the databanks,” Solder looked impressed.

XD99525 didn’t correct the medic’s impression. He’d looked at the recommended instructions for the new sparked inside the databanks and had felt something he knew now had been amusement. Those had relied heavily on pre-existing codes that could be adjust to a mech’s code but were available to anyone. True firewalls, he understood, were built personally from the code up, therefore before they could even be hacked, a mech needed to have an understanding of how the creator processed.

He’d assigned himself it as a challenge; in between listening to Twist Drill and Tech Gear explain paint preference for the fifteen hundredth and seventy ninth time and the other inanities life brought. That was when he’d discovered the medical overrides and Solder’s direct access code (the access code was unique to Solder as the medic was the one inside his systems during that first onlining) that were embedded in his software. Removing those had been the real task, given that he couldn’t read medical script in the first place. He’d studied his own coding intensely, digit by digit, figuring out all of the math and that had allowed him to bypass the language barrier.

“I needed to be able to shield myself,” XD99525 answered, “In case it happened again.”

Solder glanced up sharply at him. “You don’t intend to ever network?” he asked.

“No.”

The medic leant back, watching him carefully. “Do you have preferences?” he questioned, changing tactics. At XD99525’s confused look, he added, “Have you discovered things you like to do?”

Something told him that mentioning the enjoyment he’d derived from breaking down the medic codes would not go over well. Instead he said, “Puzzles,” which technically wasn’t a lie if one thought of codes as puzzles to be solved.

“Puzzles?”

“Yes.”

Solder was silent for a moment. “You don’t have access to the infonet yet. I could download some complex algorithms for you. Would you let me transfer them to you to through an interface cable?”

“You could just upload them to a datapad,” XD99525 pointed out coolly.

“I could do that,” Solder agreed, “But I think it’s important to do it this way. As your medic, there will be times where I need to enter your systems and it would be rather inefficient if you panic every time. I can keep myself shielded, if it’ll make you more comfortable.”

The mech was silent for a long moment. Then with great reluctance, he popped open his shoulder port. Solder leant over and inserted a wrist cable and waited for their systems to sync up. He opened a link to the infonet in the meantime and set up a download in the background before he turned his attention to his patient.

The first thing he came across was XD99525’s firewalls. Those, he observed, were definitely not standard firewalls. –You coded them from the baseline up?-

-Yes.-

-Impressive- he pinged back. Then he noticed the lack of medical overrides and his own backdoor code, which should have been _impossible_ to remove. He fought to keep his alarm spilling over the hardline connection. –You’re going to have to put those back. What if a medic needs to get in your systems in an emergency? That could be fatal.-

Solder watched as the codes elegantly (albeit reluctantly) reinserted themselves. –How did you learn medic script?-

-I didn’t. I studied my own basecodes and detached the medic code from them and quarantined the overrides.-

-That shouldn’t have allowed you to get around the language barrier. Those were embedded in your coding, although, I suppose theoretically, your systems are relatively uncomplicated and maybe… no.  A code specialist would be best to explain whatever you just pulled,- Solder pulled back and observed, -Puzzles, hmph. You _were_ bored.-

-Very.-

-With your permission, I would like to take a systems scan,- Solders said carefully. –The scientist from Polyhex will be arriving soon and he needs an assessment of your personality matrix.-

For a long moment, he had no reply. Then more firewalls shifted aside and he could access XD99525’s personality matrix though he was careful to maintain his distance. The coding was beautifully complex and the math elegant and far too advanced for a mech that had been online for as short a time period as XD99525 had. Even as he watched, more lines developed and slowly integrated themselves. With an apologetic brush of his EM fields, he scanned the personality matrix then backed out.

Before he terminated the connection, the medic sent the algorithm problems he’d downloaded and after an astrosecond, XD99525 accepted. For the next joors the recently sparked mech sat in Solder’s office (alone, thankfully alone, Solder had drifted out to his medbay) and worked through the maths. It finally eased his processors and eventually he was able to fully restore all the files that had been damaged in the disastrous sharing and his abrupt ejection from the grid.

A ping against his sensornet marked Solder’s return. The medic was not alone, beside him stood a green mech with a scientist frame-type. “This is Fuse-Link,” Solder said, “He’s been studying the sparks and the Allspark itself for a few hundred vorns now.”

Fuse-Link studied XD99525 intently. “Do you have a designation?” the scientist asked, eventually.

The mech in question gave a confused pulse in his EM field, surely Solder had sent this information. “My designation is XD99525,” he answered.

“That is a temporary designation that Solder assigned you,” Fuse Link tilted his helm at him. “Coherent mechs sometimes determine their designations early on and your development is of a sufficient level. I thought you might such a case, but I see I was mistaken.”

A true designation? His spark whispered a name that felt right to him. “Prowl,” he said. “My designation is Prowl."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Prowl, a bunch of OCs for plot related purposes  
> Disclaimer: Not mine  
> Warnings: vague mentions of torture, spark merging (for reasons I consider pure medical and with no sexual implications)  
> Summary: In the darkness of Shockwave's lair, one Autobot unravels the truth of the war as he is forced to recall all incarnations of his existance

There is pain, Shockwave is displeased by his duplicity and has hacked his pain receptors, setting them ablaze. But he cannot set aside from the course he has set them upon; they will see this journey through to the end.

  
  


Prowl was fascinating for a recently sparked mech. Fuse-Link kept the XD995 in sight as they walked through the streets of Iacon, heading over to his new lab at the academy. Out in the crowds, with EM fields clashing with wild abandon and wireless networks singing through the airwaves, the mech should have been soaking it all up. Instead, his EM fields were drawn close and Fuse-Link couldn’t get a location ping off him, indicating he’d shut down his wireless receivers.

Knowledge was vital to development for newly sparked Cybertronians and it was illogical that Prowl was removing himself from the flow. Fuse-Link’s own network of scientists murmured to him through the numerous spark links he had built with them. They all hummed with curiosity, minds firing a billion different hypothesises and solutions as they tinkered in laboratories across Cybertron. Fuse-Link tuned them and their projects (all so fascinating, though!) out as he focused on his own subject.

Prowl’s behaviour fit with the information the medic beside him had given him. A highly developed personality matrix in too short a time period, unwilling to let others access to his systems, not even his batch. Paranoia? It wasn’t uncommon with coherent sparks, but not to the degree his subject was displaying. A mech excluding himself from his batch was near unheard of.

Removing Solder’s unique access code? That went beyond any spark given talent. It required a fundamental understanding of Cybertronian programming at its most basic level. Solder had told him of Zeta’s assessment, that Prowl’s spark was old, the glyph Zeta had used was specific to the forerunners of their race that had been enslaved by the Quintessons. It was a fascinating puzzle, looking at the pieces he had and the curiosity to know who exactly he had in front of him was overwhelming.

And entirely unfair to Prowl. A spark that had been to the Allspark came back a new individual, regardless of whether its spark frequencies had been wiped clean or some remained pre-set. But curiosity was linked directly to his core function, it was impossible to repress.

He watched with interest as tension slowly built in Prowl’s EM field as the crowds thickened. What was the cause, the lack of space, the number of open fields and grids pressing against him? Cybertronians were a deeply social race; some form of communication was almost always open at some level, allowing whatever knowledge a mech was comfortable with being public to be shared at instantaneous rates between complete strangers

Interesting. Very interesting. If the mech wasn’t so skittish, Fuse-Link wouldn’t hesitate to invite him into a grid uplink, simply to watch the way Prowl’s processors worked. Belatedly, he recalled the advice one of the mentors had insisted on giving before they left for his lab, as though Fuse-Link had never mentored a new spark before.

“Don’t share with him,” Immobilizer had stared down at him. “Do not offer to share in any form of way with him. I mean it. He will not react well.”

Fuse-Link had inwardly scoffed. How else was he supposed to work out what was going on with the mech? And if the medic had managed to coax a personality scan out of him, then it wasn’t not out of the realm of possibility.

-How much experience have you had with coherent sparks?- Fuse-Link asked, opening a secure comm line to the medic beside him.

-I have the basic files about them but I’ve never personally handled a case. The last recorded case occurred during my predecessor’s time,- Solder tilted his helm curiously towards the scientist. –I believe you handled the spark assessment then.-

-I did,- Fuse-Link confirmed, -I’ve been studying sparks and the Allspark for most of my functioning. It truly is fascinating, the unique properties of the Allspark resonate perfectly with spark energy and yet no one knows how Solus managed to forge it. With his Matrix lost and budding and splitting protocols no longer being uploaded into new mechs, it seems prudent to discern how the Allspark was created.-

-And you think studying coherent sparks will help you with this endeavour?- the medic gave Fuse-Link an unreadable look.

-They are vital clues to figuring out what exactly happens to a spark when it returns the Allspark. And from the preliminary data you have given me, Prowl appears to be an unprecedented case. His personality matrix is too developed, even for a coherent mech.-

Solder stumbled in confusion and Fuse-Link and Prowl drew to a halt, the scientist kept an optic on the XD995 who almost looked…sullen. _Too developed_ , Fuse-Link thought to himself, _emotion programming, personality, he is far, far too new to be this advanced._

“Are you alright, medic Solder?” Prowl asked, the faintest traces of concern colouring his tone.

“I’m fine,” Solder said hastily, resuming their previous pace, “I just received a piece of news I wasn’t expecting.”

Prowl levelled a solid stare at the medic but if he didn’t believe Solder, he gave no trace of it. Instead he returned to his silent position by the medic’s side.

–I thought that was normal,- Solder pinged to Fuse-Link privately, -I mean, they retain spark code from their previous existence so it makes sense that they would develop faster. The files say that should happen, although they never mentioned outpacing the batch entirely. I assumed that was merely an oversight in the databanks.-

-There have been no records of that happening,- Fuse-Link replied. –Yes, coherent sparks _do_ develop faster, but not at this rate. Your scans and my own observations indicate that his personality matrix has developed enough to give him a defined sense of self and the beginnings of emotion programming. The closest match I have on record at the same age would just be starting to identify itself as an individual.-

Solder shot a worried look to the mech by his side. –What does that mean for Prowl?-

The scientist brightened immediately. –Well, that’s what I’m here to find out! The implications for my research are immense. It isn’t unheard of for coherent mechs to recall memories of their previous existence, though often they are severely fragmented. Given the difference in Prowl’s case already, I’m hoping that he may retain a substantial amount of pre-set spark frequencies. Once we get to my lab, I’ll actually be able to determine that amount; I have the equipment for it after--

-Do you really want that?- Solder cut in, and something in his voice was cold.

Fuse-Link paused, reaching out his network of scientists for counsel. He always said something wrong when conversing with mechs from different functions and had learnt that his fellows were often able to point out his mistake.

-I’m afraid I don’t understand,- he said cautiously.

-A spark that has come from the Allspark but still retains traces of its previous existence is to be treated as a new spark, - the medic reminded him, -No matter who Prowl’s spark belonged to previously, he is a different person, a new person. You are not to pressure him to recall any supposed memories he might have.-

The confusion cleared from Fuse-Link as he received several mental admonishments over his lack of empathy. -Oh no, that is certainly not allowed,- the scientist assured him. –I would not do that, not to a newly sparked mech. If he was fully developed, assured of his identity and curious about his previous existence, I might be tempted to ask him then. But not now, he is far too new.-

The fragmented memories that had been shared with him by some of his subjects often were horrifying, flashes of pain and terror. The common understanding was that it was mainly the strongest memories that were retained, moments that left deep impressions on a spark. And given the turbulence of the beginnings of Cybertronian civilisation, it was not surprising that many only remembered the dark parts of those lives. No, as interesting as Prowl’s memories could possibly be, he had no intention of bringing them up so early in the mech’s life.

“Solder,” Prowl said abruptly, diverting the other mechs’ attention back to him, “How long will this take?”

“How long will what take?”

“How long will I stay with Fuse-Link?” he clarified, “I understand that his study is important but what do I do in the meantime?”

Interesting, Fuse-Link reflected, that Prowl would not speak to him directly or give him any form of acknowledgement. “Whatever you want,” he chimed in with a dismissive shrug, “My subjects normally return to their batch and mentors while I analyse my results. Learn more about themselves and Cybertron,” Fuse-Link gave Prowl a considering look. The mech was just so _strange_ , none of the other coherent sparks had been bothered by inactivity; they had been adjusting and learning all that they could.

A grimace flitted across Prowl’s face before he could suppress it. “What if I wanted to take up a function?”

Solder and Fuse-Link briefly faltered. _That_ was unexpected. “Too young,” Solder answered when he recovered, “Minimum age is 5 vorns before a mech can even take up training for a function.”

“No exceptions?”

“No,” the medic answered firmly. “That time is necessary, a mech must be sure of himself and what he wants before he decides to commit to a function. Upgrading a frame to suit the function is a lengthy process, after the frame has been reformatting; you must adjust to new core code protocols. Those can take several vorns to settle properly and integrate into you. Choosing a wrong function means being stuck in a form entirely inappropriate for whatever function might suit you better and of course, downgrading takes even longer. That’s a long time to be spending doing something you don’t like.”

“So I am to remain in my company of my batch?” Prowl scowled briefly.

“Only when Fuse-Link cannot supervise you directly but I’ll unlock your access to the infonet,” Solder assured the other mech, “You can download as many algorithms and other complex puzzles as you won’t be bored.”

Fuse-Link’s optics had widened at this piece of information. –He is capable of problem solving already?-

-Yes. He gets bored very easily.-

Fuse-Link was silent for a while and then in a rare moment of fore-sight and concern, added, -You don’t think he’s too young to have access to the infonet?-

A flicker of amusement escaped through Solder’s fields. –I trust you to supply him with a large amount of scientific studies to keep him entertained so he doesn’t have to return to his batch. The infonet should be a last stop measure for him, - Solder abruptly sobered. –You never answered my question though.-

Fuse-Link flicked through his own short term memory files in confusion. –I didn’t?-

-Do you really hope that he holds a high amount of pre-set spark frequencies?-

-Well, yes,- the scientist admitted, -If he could recall his stay in the Allspark, that would be certainly most astounding and informative. However, the probability of that occurring is very low, 0.000000078%. I would be happy with a complete memory file, those are rare and by studying the codes I hope to understand what causes the degeneracy that leads to their loss—

-If you were Prowl, would you want that though?- Solder cut in, -Being able to recall complete chunks of someone else’s life? How does a newly sparked mech even begin to distinguish where he starts and the fragments begin?-

Nightmarish visions spun through Fuse-Link processor and the scientist shuddered involuntarily. –It’s never been a problem before,- he answered unsteadily, -15% is the highest amount a spark spectrum has ever been pre-set. Those mechs developed relatively normal albeit at a faster pace than their batch. They were markedly paranoid though; very few ever moved beyond the bonds of their batch and sought connections with mechs elsewhere. The pre-set frequencies did shape the personality matrix to some extent but it was near superficial. Some aspects of their temperament would be inherited from their predecessor however other than that they were very much new individuals. I was able to quantify that by studying cases where the spark frequencies had been on record and I could contact former acquaintances and friends to confirm it.-

Solder was quiet for a long moment, keeping watch on Prowl in the corner of his optic. -And they are otherwise healthy?-

-They definitely show symptoms of spark trauma,- Fuse-Link admitted reluctantly. –I’ve come to recognise the signs well. The tests that I’ll be doing, I can show you the exact patterns in the spark spectrum that indicate trauma.-

Solder’s optics flickered a pale green as he accessed Iacon’s medical database. –Looks like there is some studying I’ll need to do,- he replied.

  
  
  
  
  


Convincing Prowl to concede to Fuse-Link’s tests had been no easy task. The mech was volatile, bored far too easily, was completely uninterested in spending time with his batch and he spent a lot of time haunting the academy lab restlessly. Unfortunately for the scientist, Solder had abandoned him very early on to return to his patients and to do some private research. Prowl remained aloof and distrustful to Fuse-Link and with the medic gone, had settled on plain refusing to allow Fuse-Link into his systems.

“I’ve received a message from Tech-Gear,” Fuse-Link announced, determined that this was the orn he would make some progress.

Prowl raised an optic from the corner he’d sequestered himself in, several educational datapads plugged into his forearm ports. “And?” he asked with complete disinterest.

“He has some experiments he needs to run today down in the quantum labs,” the scientist responded. “The ST144s from your batch will be here.”

Prowl’s optics narrowed at him. “And?”

Fuse-Link frowned at the antagonism directed towards himself. “You don’t want to see them?”

“No,” Prowl answered shortly. He returned his attention to the equations he had been working through.

Fuse-Link had been fascinated initially by Prowl’s distance towards his own batch but worry had quickly arisen as time passed and Prowl became increasingly isolated. Cybertronians simply didn’t exist by themselves, their neural and quantum connections with each other didn’t allow it and their own mental development depended on a continuous influx of information. That allowed them perspective; they then chose which codes and behaviours they would amplify and build upon.

Under normal circumstances, Prowl’s mental development should have been stunted. Instead, his personality matrix continued to develop at an advanced rate…or so Fuse-Link assumed, as he had not been able to coax a systems scan out of him.

“You know,” Fuse-Link started, not letting any frustration escape him, “It is entirely possible that you could upload a diagnostic report of your personality matrix to an unsparked terminal. There would be no processor to processor contact at all.”

Prowl’s optics locked onto the scientist and he tilted his helm in thought. “That is acceptable,” he allowed.

It wasn’t exactly progress. Even though Fuse-Link was not a medic, he was deeply uncomfortable with how isolated Prowl was determined to make himself. “I need to study your spark,” Fuse-Link said bluntly. He raised his hand before the mech could protest, “For your own sake. Your development is too advanced, even for a coherent spark and Solder is not entirely sure that is a good thing.”

Fuse-Link and Solder had discussed this issue at length. Whilst Fuse-Link was fascinated by the possibilities it could hold for his research, the medic had been extremely worried about whether they were witnessing a deep level spark imprint. It was possible to influence immature sparks with imprints, therefore ensuring the new spark took particular traits from a donor spark. However, given the Cybertronian creed that freedom was the right of all sentients, the amount of influence through an imprint was highly restricted, they only occurred in extreme medical cases where a defect in the frequencies of a spark needed correcting. A deep level imprint could result in a spark clone, preventing a new mech from ever reaching their full potential as their spark had been deliberately shaped.

Prowl’s case made a fascinating case-study. Fuse-Link held the suspicion that he had a substantially higher amount than 15% of his frequencies retained. Whether a spark had been completely reset through the Allspark or not, it was understood that a newly sparked mech was a new individual.

But, Fuse-Link wondered as he watched Prowl, what if a mech retained enough of his predecessor’s frequencies that he began to reconstruct a dead personality matrix? Would that negate the need to integrate with other mechs, as he already had the basis to develop a personality matrix? A mature personality matrix was the result of experiences shaping a mech’s core code. A spark carried those codes in its frequencies and constantly updated and rewrote them as the mech lived. Newly sparked mechs shared unrestrictedly with mentors and other mechs to gain those experiences second hand.

Solder had argued and said if what Fuse-Link suspected was true, then technically what was occurring within Prowl was illegal, the same as a spark cloning. Fuse-Link had pointed out that it was hard to persecute someone who was legally dead and it could also be technically looked at as an extreme matrix reboot. Those occurred when a personality matrix had been destabilized completely and the spark rewrote all its coding though imperfectly, causing a shift in the mech’s disposition. Unfortunately, all of this was conjecture until the scientist could convince Prowl to let him study his spark.

“No,” Prowl replied calmly. The XD995’s green optics blinked lazily at him as he worked through his assignment. “Solder may perform whatever tests you need from my spark when he gets back.”

Fuse-Link was pleased to hear he would _finally_ be making some progress but was torn by his rising indignation. “May I inquire why you won’t let me do it myself?” he asked.

Prowl levelled an even gaze at him. “I don’t know you,” he said simply.

The scientist frowned at him. “But you aren’t even trying to know me,” he said.

It was true, much of Fuse-Link databanks were unfirewalled and a simple ping off him would give Prowl all sorts of information about Fuse-Link. It was basic courtesy to do that when mechs were introduced to each other and Prowl had decided to firmly ignore it.

Mentally, Fuse-Link added ‘rude’ to the record he was building around Prowl.

“I’m sorry,” the XD995 replied in a clipped tone, “But at the moment, I have no interest in knowing you either.”

Very rude, the scientist was quick to amend. Fuse-Link recalled the subject that had retained 15% of his spark frequencies, and decided he had not been this unapproachable.

“Is there a reason for that?” he inquired.

Prowl paused and disconnected all his datapads, giving Fuse-Link his full attention. “I…just know I should be cautious about other beings,” he replied. His optics dimmed in thought (he can already self-analyse his own behaviour, Fuse-Link noted with wonder and a slight chill of fear), “Cautious but I suppose I’m being overly so. It is just difficult…it is one thing to acknowledge that my core codes are zealous and another to act against them.”

This was familiar. Fuse-Link’s subject often would confess that they found trusting complete strangers difficult but they were several vorns of age when they were advanced enough to distrust other mechs. This was all too soon for Prowl and he had had extremely limited exposure, even within his own batch. The fear solidified within Fuse-Link and his fellow scientists inside his active network.

-Solder?- he pinged across the Iacon infonet, -I think you should head back here, there are some tests that I need to run and I think it’s best we do them as soon as possible.-

  
  
  
  


“Well,” Fuse-Link stared at the readout on the holographic terminal and fought to keep down rising alarm, “That’s very interesting. And unprecedented.”

“Unprecedented?” Prowl glanced up from the medical berth he was sitting on, he was currently appraising a datapad Immobilizer had brought in for him. The enforcer had been in Solder’s near vicinity when Fuse-Link’s message had come in and had accompanied him to the academy as he would be collecting the ST144s later the orn anyway.

Fuse-Link traced the readout and it zoomed in on the part of the spectrum he’d indicated as Solder approached him. “40% of your spark frequencies are pre-set. The highest ever recorded before was 15%. I’m actually not entirely sure what this means for you, Prowl.”

-Slag, that can’t be right, - Solder muttered as he poked at the readout.

-Must have been a very short stay in the Allspark,- Fuse-Link offered, -Zeta had to be right about his spark being _old.-_

-He can’t have been on record, none of the known ones have died recently,- Solder replied.

-It matches though, if you look here,- Fuse-Link tapped a particular sequence of short, jagged  fragments in the spark spectrum, -That pattern is consistent with trauma in confirmed cases where the spark has been on record and the predecessor was embodied by the Quintessons.-

Solder tilted his head thoughtfully at Prowl. –And those mechs, they were reluctant to share with mechs outside their batches, right?-

-Yes. It’s a fear of being reprogrammed by the Quintessons, so deep that it’s been imprinted onto the spark and often is retained through the Allspark. Except, when the mech is resparked, they don’t have the coping mechanisms their predecessor would have had to handle it. They become irrationally reluctant to let other mechs into their systems.-

-But it was alright within the batch?- Immobilizer cut into the conversation, the enforcer stood by the lab’s door.

Solder and Fuse-Link both started in surprise, having not noticed Immobilizer’s presence. Prowl flicked his optics over to them briefly, then his optics switched off as his attention returned to his datapad.

-You didn’t tell me you were so close by,- the medic scolded him. He glanced at Fuse-Link apologetically; -I added him into the comm line at the start.-

–To answer your question, yes,- Fuse-Link admitted reluctantly, giving an affirmative pulse in response to Solder to let him know he was not bothered. –By the time they had advanced enough to this point, they were already intricately linked to their own batchmates. It was just outsiders they had a problem with.-

The three mechs all simultaneously turned their attention to Prowl, who was studiously ignoring them. –40% would be enough to have enough core coding that it could kickstart the personality matrix development,- Solder said softly.

-Coupled with spark trauma and we get a mech that can’t handle the thought of someone else in his systems and has developed too fast to form a connection with his own batch,- Immobilizer summarized.

-Unprecedented,- Fuse-Link muttered, the shock catching up with him again.-How incredible!-

-Can we fix it Solder?- Immobilizer asked, deliberately ignoring the scientist as he yammered about the implications for his research.

-We should definitely encourage him to link up with his own batch,- the medic answered. –Maybe a low level imprint on his spark if he wants to expand his core code range and have some diversity but getting the clearance for that is problematic.-

“Are you done talking over me?” Prowl suddenly called out, his optics still dark.

Immobilizer gave Prowl a considering look as Solder said apologetically, “Sorry about that but there are strict regulations about what can be discussed around coherent sparks in case they feel pressured to be someone they are not.”

The XD995 disconnected from the datapad, optics flickering back on. “Fuse-Link said you thought my rapid development may not be a good thing.”

“And I stand by that assessment,” Solder said firmly, “You are isolating yourself from complete interactions of Cybertronian society. You don’t even want to have anything to with your own batch.”

“They assaulted me,” Prowl replied frostily, “And almost tore my personality matrix apart. I don’t see any reason to trust them.”

“Do you want to remain like this though?” the medic asked pointedly. “Alone and disconnected?”

“Disconnected?” Prowl turned his attention inward for a moment. “No. But the restriction in my programming is difficult to work around.”

Solder frowned, “That can be fixed by spark imprints…but only if you genuinely want those imprints to take.” He took a step close to the new mech and paused when Prowl flinched away from him. “Prowl?”

The XD995 cycled his fists closed as he steeled himself to face the medic. “It’s...” static filled his vocaliser for a moment, “Core code conflict. I need to…rewriting…”

The medic lunged for his charge just as the light faded in Prowl’s optics and he dropped to the floor. With practiced ease as the new mech trembled uncontrollably, he slid a wrist cable into Prowl’s right shoulder port and uplinked into-

A load of error reports slammed against Solder’s firewalls. The medic ignored them as he carefully navigated his way through Prowl’s walls, using the access code that was unique to him as the medic who onlined the XD995. He quickly ran a diagnostic as he moved towards Prowl’s core codes, where he found two lines of behavioural programming invalidating the other. It took a few astroseconds to analyse the codes and then he carefully deleted one line.

Awareness flooded back through Prowl’s processor as the crash halted. The XD995 took a moment to observe Solder’s work then turned his attention to the medic.

-Thankyou,- he said honestly.

Solder didn’t reply initially, his processor was going over the results from the diagnostic and his own observations. –You wrote your own behavior core code,- he said finally, as he sent a pulse to Fuse-Link and Immobilizer that all was well.

-Yes,- Prowl answered quietly.

Many questions rose up in Solder’s mind; he chose to address the most pressing one. –Why?-

-I…the codes that are developing by themselves have embed too much caution in me. I wanted to move beyond them. I just don’t understand why this is happening.-

Solder felt confusion and annoyance build on Prowl’s side of the hardlink connection. –Spark trauma,- the medic supplied, -Something happened to your spark and it remembers…but you, XD99525, have never personally experience it and so you don’t have the coping mechanisms to handle it.-

The medic watched the new mech slowly digest the information methodically. There was a ripple through Prowl’s processor as he experienced a paradigm shift, his mental landscape reshaping itself as he adjusted to a new understanding of himself.

-This…- the thought drifted almost lazily and Solder was fairly certain he was not meant to hear, -This is what it means to be coherent.-

-Your spark is writing codes that will presumably protect you but because of the trauma, it can’t tell that the behaviours it’s encouraging you to develop are actually unnecessary and harmful to you,- the medic continued.

-I understand,- Prowl responded neutrally and Solder could feel that the new spark truly did. –When I wrote my own codes, I thought they would override the pre-existing one and allow me to act…well, I am unsure how I would act under normal circumstances.-

The medic did not dignify that with a response and the XD995 relented eventually. –Very well,- Prowl replied with a hint of apology, -I _hoped_ they would override the other codes.-

-Core coding,- Solder informed him tightly, -Does not get overwritten unless you suffer from a personality matrix destabilisation that wipes everything completely. That is why it is _core_ coding. And you are far too smart not to know that, you’ve been reading up on core programming in your free time. You were careless.-

Prowl paused for an astrosecond before responding. –Arrogant actually, I believe. How interesting. That is not a good personality trait to be developing when I have nothing to back it up.-

The medic was startled into laughing aloud. –Integrating a sense of humility into you will be a problem, I can tell.-

The new mech gently nudged Solder’s consciousness and the medic began to withdraw. His cable retracted back into his wrist and he helped Prowl to his pedes.

“Well,” Solder exvented roughly, “Prowl tried to write his own core codes, causing a programming conflict. Easily broken but he has been doing it for a while and he needs to stop,” the medic levelled a glare at the XD995. “If you keep that up you could risk a complete systems failure and other unpleasantness that are not associated with a normal functioning. I recommend low level spark imprinting as soon as possible. No more experiments until we get your development under control.”

“How would those help me?” the XD995 asked quietly.

“Oh,” Fuse-Link piped up, enthusiastic that they were heading into something he was very familiar with, having witnessed treatment for many of his subjects, “You choose a mech with traits that you like because you will be inheriting them a few of them. Under controlled conditions, you carefully expose your sparks to each other and you replace the frequencies that are incessantly writing the behavioural code. Absorbing spark energy of course, means that some sort of baseline bond will form but you get lots of new coding that you can integrate into your matrix.”

Prowl shot the scientist an alarmed look. “Wouldn’t the donor spark then gain the trauma?” he demanded. Spark merging was a two process, it was impossible for it to be one-sided.

“Coherent spark or not, maturity determines the strength of the imprint. A new spark wouldn’t be able to exert a lot of influence on an old spark,” Fuse-Link explained cheerfully.

Prowl, Solder and Immobilizer shot him a deadpan look simultaneously. “However,” the scientist amended somewhat mournfully, “Given the unprecedented nature of your spark, there’s no telling what could happen.”

  
  
  
  


It would take Solder a few orns to gain the necessary permission from both the Iacon Medical Board and the Prime. The knowledge did not make it easier for Prowl as he paced within the room he had been allocated. He could feel his spark slowly writing off new codes, new protocols, shaping his personality matrix. Each equation that slipped into his processors left him colder, more exhausted as he battled to edit the programming. The medic had left him with firm instructions not to write new codes but he had not mentioned attempting to shape the programming as they developed.

A new spark needed experiences and understanding before it could start predetermining its responses, in essence, developing a basic personality. From there on, every new interaction gave more context, more insight, and as the mech came to understand himself better, his spark would write more complex codes, building up a true sentient being.

But Prowl had missed that stage, he did not have enough personal experiences himself to know who he was but his spark retained its recordings of someone else’s life and was using that knowledge (incomplete, 40% of his spectrum had been determined which meant that about half of that existence had been lost) to make a partial reconstruction of someone that was not him. Or maybe it was. Half of him was a long dead mech and half was someone who was new.

No. He wanted to have the opportunity to be what he wanted to be. And what he did know was that right now, he wanted the codes that his spark was writing to have come from _this_ existence. That made him a new being, a distinct entity, not someone’s personality matrix ghost.

With an annoyed huff, he settled on his berth. Fuse-Link had muttered something about data to analysis, archives to search, and oh, there’s an energon dispenser at the entrance of the corridor, before initiating a frame lockdown and logging himself completely into his terminal. The scientist had been fascinated by the information Solder had collected on his systems.

Prowl briefly turned his attention to the algorithms Solder had given him, but he’d solved them 2,948,865 times since he’d got them. Perhaps if he could download some more…?

He activated his wireless receivers, feeling the gentle buzz of radio signals against his EM fields. The rush of information that surged through his processors was overwhelming but incredible. Everything from Polyhexian politics, Koanite sports to the latest music downloads and vid dramas pushed for his attention. He thrived in it, new data was integral and exhilarating to Cybertronians and he’d been cut off and deprived from assimilating it from his mentors. He was connected and there was just so much to _learn_ …

A brush against his cyber awareness had him flinching. He wasn’t alone of course; billions of other Cybertronians were linked into the infonet, accessing information, communicating, a planet’s worth of minds working in sync.

His core programming quailed and said to ignore the processor trying to attract his attention. His core programming was also the result of an incomplete spark code and was completely paranoid.

He pushed himself past the parameters they had assigned him with a great deal of difficulty, setting off a whole heap of internal errors and ignored them.

-Hello?- he pinged in query as he ran a search for complex algorithm problems. –Do you need something?-

He felt a surge of amusement from the stranger, -What don’t I need? How about a complete private uplink? There’s a grid that I know that has fantastic virtual--

Prowl’s processor stalled for an astrosecond. His core programming floundered in confusion then his firewalls automatically shut off the connection. He had not just been prepositioned. He had not been.

Perhaps being able to reach out and communicate with other mechs was not worth it.

  
  
  
  


If Immobilizer was startled to find the normally reticent XD995 outside his apartment the next orn, he did not show it. “Come in,” he stepped back and allowed Prowl into his home without another word.

The new mech’s optics swept over the room, taking in as many details as possible. The room was sparsely furnished; no superfluous items were to be found. It appealed to Prowl’s growing sense of efficiency.

“Has Fuse-Link discovered the secret to the Allspark yet?” the Enforcer asked drolly. He retrieved a puzzle holocube from his room and gave it over to Prowl.

“What?” the non-sequitur completely confused the XD995.

“I imagine that he must be busy with all the data they’ve pulled on your processors,” Immobilizer clarified.

Preparing for the imprint meant a lot of tests needed to be run on Prowl’s spark and coding. That Prowl had made it through it without suffering another crash was nothing short of amazing.

Prowl turned his attention back to the cube. “I believe he overloaded with joy when the data came in at the end of the last orn,” he deadpanned smoothly.

Immobilizer’s engine stalled. “How much access have you had to the infonet?” he accused.

Prowl levelled an optic at him. “There’s no such thing as too much access to the infonet.”

Immobilizer gave Prowl a Look. It was one he had mastered after dealing with criminals over the many vorns. It bounced ineffectively off Prowl’s grey, metallic helm but that was to be expected. Immobilizer had no doubt that whatever was going on inside the new mech’s processor; his mind would be something that had no equivalent before in Cybertronian history.

“Is there a purpose to this visit?” he asked pointedly, deciding to appeal to Prowl’s sense of timekeeping.

“I came to ask if you would be the one to provide the imprint,” Prowl answered promptly, refocusing on his original task.

The Enforcer tilted his helm as he studied the mech in front of him. Under normal circumstances he would not have hesitated, the imprint he would have received would be inconsequential and eventually dissipate with no effects towards him. However, given the age Fuse-Link had estimated Prowl’s spark was and the abnormality of the spark itself held troubling connotations. He would be risking himself, no matter what precautions they took. But Prowl had not shown the slightest interest in any of the other mentors or any other mechs. To refuse him meant condemning him to a life in solitude.

It didn’t take him long to come to a conclusion.

“Yes.”

  
  
  
  


-It’s okay to feel nervous,- Solder tightbeamed as he entered the medbay. The team of medics already there ran the final checks and disabled Prowl’s motor systems.

-Are _you_ worried, medic Solder?- Prowl replied dryly. It was a strange sensation to be disconnected from his frame this way, similar to the first time he had onlined and was so new, but different because he was used to being able to move. His frame remained upright on the medberth, it had been set into lockdown to keep it from crumpling into a heap.

Something began to stir inside him at a long forgotten memory. It felt a lot like fear.

-No. Yes. Maybe a little. Fuse-Link has been expounding a lot of theories on what is about to happen.-

-How considerate of him,- Prowl fought to keep to his composure and was pleased that there was no trace of strain in his fields or his voice.

-Inconsiderate, Prowl, inconsiderate,- Solder corrected.

-Share them with Immobilizer. He should find them interesting-

-You are a horrid new mech who shouldn’t have ever discovered sarcasm.-

The aforementioned new mech would have smirked but he was suddenly in the strong grips of total panic. This was wrong, wrong, wrong; _they_ were going to pull apart his processors, pry every secret he had then reprogram his frame-

No. It was nothing more than a memory, a leftover fragment from a life that was not _his_. He watched with weary anticipation as Immobilizer came in and settled beside him in close proximity. One of the medics linked up to his systems and a long shudder went through the Enforcer, then he went completely still.

Prowl could feel the electrostatic buzz against his receivers that indicated the med team was co-ordinating their work via a private grid. There was no need to speak aloud when neither him nor Immobilizer were able to understand medic script.

Solder logged himself into Prowl’s systems, pausing at Prowl’s firewalls.–I need you to bring down your firewalls,- Solder said.

Prowl moved through his protocols and came to the unwelcome discovery that his core codes had highjacked his own programming. –I can’t.-

Solder paused, -That is disturbing.- Then the medic was moving through his defences using his access code, the sensation was unpleasant but not painful. –Sorry about that,- the medic said.

Prowl gave a mental shrug. –I am eager for this to be over.”

He watched as Solder accessed a particular program and made adjustments to different parts of his programming. Parts of his processor suddenly shut off and he could not access them, this time he couldn’t keep the panic from flaring within him and it spilled over the hardline connection. Then, he felt the medic receive a high frequency transmission, and Solder activated a line of code, opening his chest plates and exposing his spark chamber.

Stop, stop, stopstopstopSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP-

-Prowl? You need to calm down; it’s me, Solder-

He needed to defend himself, but he couldn’t think, couldn’t program viral code to eject the foreign presence inside his processor because they had shut down half of his-

-Calm down, Prowl-

GetoutoutoutoutGetOUT!

-It’s just a memory fragment, it’s not even your memory, you need to calm down Prowl-

\--me, Solder, Prowl?-

Solder? No. Who was Solder? _They_ had capture him, had finally got himself caught-

-PROWL-

STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP

-Going ahead with this anyway. Just wait, it’ll be better soon-

NONONONONONO. He wasn't going back, wouldn't ever serve the Empire again, wouldn't ever let them-

Then something touched his spark, there was the gentle meld of wild energy and a feeling of wry amusement directed at his very self. It cut through the panic enveloping his processor; _they_ did not know about the spark networks, that sparks were capable of quantum entanglement.

_It’s a memory,_ he heard from the other end of the entanglement. _You are quite safe and have taken many, many vorns off Solder’s life. I fear he may never return to the medical profession again._

He recognised that dry sense of humour. It was similar to his own, developed after the briefest of brushes with Immobilizer’s spark.

_I thought you would never calm down. The memories that you were sharing…were not pleasant._

Interest immediately spiked. _You saw the old memories? What, no, who-_

The rebuke came almost immediately. _That does not matter,_ Immobilizer said firmly. _Suffice to say, you do have complete memories just as Fuse-Link suspected and we could learn many fascinating things from them but that is not what we are doing here._

_Very well_ , Prowl subsided unhappily. Even though he was determined to be his own person, it did not mean he was not curious to know who he had been before.

_However, I now know where to begin this._

Prowl could feel the Enforcer’s frequencies begin to adjust, the change in a particular set of frequencies that matched so closely with a segment of himself. Then the energies melted together and he could _feel_ part of himself changing, copying that part of Immobilizer just as Immobilizer took something from him-

There was a flash of horror, of understanding from Immobilizer’s spark at whatever he had received. And there was a connection building between them, quantum threads tying their sparks together and through that bridge he could almost see-

He slammed against a hard mental block. _Enough,_ Immobilizer commanded quietly. Coldly. _You are overstepping yourself. That was far too deep._

Prowl backpedalled furiously. _I’m sorry_ , he said honestly, allowing his shame to filter down through their connection.

Immobilizer was quiet for a moment as he adjusted to the change in his spark. Then he directed Prowl’s attention to his own. _How do you feel?_

Prowl felt…safe. There had been a perpetual undercurrent of fear that had been inside him all this time. He hadn’t even been aware of it, it had been part of him since his onlining and now it was gone. He was…looser, his core codes had been so narrow and focused and now they had expanded out with new codes from Immobilizer’s spark and he could think so much more clearly now.

_Better_ , he thought with a faint sense of relief. Finally he could determine things for himself. _Better._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl's batch goes for a trip round Praxus. Prowl wanders off and stumbles onto someone he shouldn't have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter has been sitting on [my livejournal account](http://www.the-lost-robot.livejournal.com/) for ages. More of this crazy AU is hidden away there, I'm afraid it's all bits and pieces (and I've always known that I'd never be able to write this AU in its entirety). I actually forgot that I had this chapter there until Silawatsi came along and started reviewing. So, this is for you, Silawatsi. If you are looking for more to read, head over to my LJ.

"Do you really think you can stop me?" Shockwave demands. "This is nothing more than a petty distraction. I have all the time I need until I get this right."  
Prowl laughs despite the agony his misfiring pain sensor wreak on his systems. "We're only at the beginning," he assures the drone. "There is so much we are yet to see."  
Shockwave pries away another piece of armor, though Prowl's neural net is so dead he doesn't even feel it go. "Your resistance is pointless. I will win this battle."  
The Autobot slumps as the virus tore into the next part of his memory core. "It is the only thing left that I can do."  
  
  
Twist-Drill looks far too pleased with himself as he climbed onto the city shuttle and announced, “Our first stop on our tour round Cybertron is Praxus!”  
Unfortunately none of his assigned mentees looked as thrilled as he was. They stared blankly at him as they accessed their preloaded databanks. Finally, ST14415 stirred and said, “The city-state of Praxus has been inefficiently designed.”  
The material extractor drooped. He was rather fond of Praxus, the artistically built city with its incredible crystal gardens. He should have realised that these newly onlined mechs would be unable to appreciate the beauty and could only see it through limited base code.  
“I agree, 55% of the land allocated to Praxus could have been better utilised,” LK28812 added.  
“Why has so much space been wasted?” XD99521 asked.  
Twist-Drill exvented unhappily and glanced at his fellow mentors for help. Immobilizer was sitting at the front of the shuttle and staring straight ahead, though he couldn’t entirely suppress the smirk appearing on the corner of his faceplates. Tech-Gear was going over a math equation with two of the ST144s and was thoroughly distracted. The material extractor was on his own in regards to the relentless curiosity of the new sparks.  
“Because…because they wanted to make it beautiful,” one bold, unexpected voice spoke up.  
Twist-Drilled turned his helm to the mech that had answered and shuttered his optics in confusion. It was XD95525 or Prowl as the new mech had taken to calling himself. _Prowl,_ a mech only a few decacycles old, able to grasp a concept as abstract as beauty. That just wasn’t normal. Then again, little about the mech was.  
“Beauty?” LK28810 was quick to challenge.  
Prowl hesitated a moment as his batch focused on him intently. Undoubtedly they were bombarding him with network pings, demanding to know this thing that he could understand and yet the rest of them couldn’t.  
“The city is…aesthetically appealing,” he answered slowly.  
Twist-Drill was unprepared to discover that Immobiliser had quietly gotten up and was now standing right beside him at some point over the last few astroseconds. As the material extractor recovered from his scare, glaring and cursing the enforcer quietly, Immobiliser stepped forward, staring intently at his strange charge.  
“Is that so?” he asked quietly. “Is that what the databanks tell you?”  
Prowl tilted his helm as he considered his reply thoughtfully. “No, the databanks are completely objective in this regards. This…is something that _I_ know.” A troubled look briefly flitted across his face before he returned to a neutral expression.  
LK28811, who sat next to Prowl, suddenly poked the XD995 to get his attention. “Uplink?” There was no mistaking the sudden interest in the other new sparks as their fields shifted eagerly.  
Prowl squirmed away from the other’s touch. “No,” he answered firmly.  
LK28811 apparently took that as an invitation to keep poking, despite being denied what he truly wanted. That was not unusual, there was so much for new sparks to explore and discover for themselves and often they would get stuck repeating tasks over and over again until their curiosity was sated. Unfortunately for Prowl, since his responses were so different from the rest of the batch, he was very much a source of interest even more so than the mentors.  
The mech endured this poking for several breems before relenting. “Fine,” he scowled, his frame stiffening to indicate that he was engaged in a wireless connection.  
Ever since whatever medical treatment that he’d undergone, Prowl was slowly allowing himself to be drawn into grids with the rest of his batch, usually under Immobilizer’s supervision. He still did not connect properly, was unwilling to allow any mech close to him but it was a vast improvement from before.  
Twist-Drill was close enough to catch the surge of worry in Immobilizer’s field as the enforcer returned to his seat. –What is all that about?- he tightbeamed in curiosity.  
-Memories,- was Immobilizer’s ambiguous answer. There was a click which indicated the shift to a more secure line and Twist-Drill couldn’t help but wonder who was going to hack a conversation between a pair of mentors. Or maybe it was simply an unconscious paranoid habit for the enforcer.  
-What?-  
-He’s been here before, many times,- Immobilizer explained softly. –His sparks remembers it still.-  
-Oh.- Twist-Drill hadn’t been paying too much attention with the whole coherency thing to be honest. He had twenty four other newly sparked mechs to take care of, due to Tech-Gear’s easy ability to get diverted into scientific experiments with the new ST144s, and he hadn’t had the chance to catch up with Prowl’s situation. The material extractor glanced at the enforcer. –Is this bad? Will he be alright here?-  
A puzzled frown marred Immobilizer’s face. -I do not know yet. His case is somewhat unprecedented. I have no idea what he might do.-  
-We’ll keep an optic on him,- Twist-Drill declared confidently. –If anything goes wrong, we’ll catch it.-  
Immobilizer did not look reassured.  
  
  
Prowl knew this city.  
His spark spun as he stepped off the city shuttle, giving a ping of thanks to the transportation mech. An agglomeration of vid files assailed his vision as he took his first step in Praxus, a confusing jumble of impressions that were impossible to understand.  
 _Stop it_ , he begged his spark. He didn’t want this, didn’t want these second-hand memories. He wanted to be _new_ , wanted every inch of his existence to be _his_ own _._  
“Where shall we go first?” he distantly heard Twist-Drill ask cheerfully.  
His batch would be giving the material extractor dull stares, he knew, unaffected by Twist-Drill’s exuberance. But he couldn’t see it for himself, the city was changing in front of his own optics, receding into nothing, then surging back into existence.  
-Easy,- a voice murmured over his comm line and he could feel Immobilizer’s steady field close besides him. The enforcer politely pinged him for an uplink and Prowl drew him into his mind with a surge of relief.  
Immobilizer’s strong presence immediately calmed his own frame, stopping the surges from Prowl’s spark somehow. Prowl knew the enforcer was manipulating his spark through his EM field, though how he achieved it was beyond the new mech. He searched the infonet and gone through his preloaded databanks but no information about whatever techniques Immobilizer used were available.  
-Thank you,- he said honestly. –I thought…I thought the imprint would have fixed this.-  
-We were correcting the part that was restricting your core codes,- Immobilizer answered. –It would be impossible to erase the memories it still holds inside it. Not without cloning--  
-No!- Prowl protested immediately, unconsciously bringing up his firewalls to eject his mentor’s presence from his mind.  
The enforcer gave him a very dour look. –That’s _illegal_ , new spark. Anyone crazy enough to do that to you would be executed.-  
-…. _Oh,-_ Prowl transmitted a feeling of apology, then politely nudged his mentor to leave his processor.  
Immobilizer retreated with a concerned frown on his face. “We should not have brought you here,” he said.  
Prowl quickly went over his reactions and made some mental connections. It was a flashback of sorts, disjointed and disorientating. However his newly programmed pride subroutines had him scowling at his mentor. “I will not allow this to control me,” he insisted.  
The enforcer did not look any happier at this declaration. “If this happens again, let me know.”  
He walked off to corale a few escaping XD995s, too curious for their own good to remain in one place whilst Twist-Drill got the group together. Prowl turned away and stared across the bustling crowds, his spark twisting with a restlessness that even Immobilizer hadn’t managed to quell.  The enforcer was nice and just wanted was best for him. But there was a place out here, a place hidden somewhere in the city that could give him the peace he was so desperately looking for.  
He just needed to find it.  
  
After touring the Crystal Gardens and the Ultra Sonic galleries without losing a single new spark, the three mentors were feeling rather pleased with themselves. While their mentees were shut down for recharge, they quietly celebrated with a cube of high grade.  
They onlined to discover that one mech had slipped out during their moment of inattentiveness.  
  
Left turn. Another left turn. Then he went straight into downtown Praxus, where the streets were safe only if you had the right attitude or knew the correct people.  Prowl didn’t question how he knew this, he just knew that the knowledge was there. Just like he knew there was a place he needed to be.  
It was irritating. He would not be a slave to the core codes his spark had tried to write nor would he indulge the every whim of a long dead life.  
Except just this once.  
Then it’d be over.  
He wasn’t safe down here, he knew that. His dull grey colours marked him as a new spark and in some ways that afforded him some protection, a new spark wouldn’t have anything valuable on him. At the same time, it attracted attention, why exactly would such a mech be wandering around this part of the city without any form of supervision? It was only a matter of time before someone approached him.  
He hoped he’d make it to his mysterious destination before then.  
Right turn, then left. Another right. Almost there…ignore the mech that was tailing him....who was getting closer. Prowl almost broke into a run but knew that would only spur his pursuer on faster, for now it was better to pretend that he had not noticed the other mech. He was painfully aware that the approaching stranger was gaining slowly on him. Just before the other was close enough to reach out and grab him, Prowl ducked right into an open doorway.  
The door almost immediately slid shut, shutting off the sounds of a bustling city and separating him from his pursuer. The silence was sudden, unnerving. The room was dimly lit, plasma globes were placed in the far corners but Prowl automatically adjusted his visual optics to the correct wavelengths so he could look about. It was a large room he was standing in, unlike any other he'd ever seen, with a depression in the middle taking up most of the room.  
His batch, had they been here, would have been having fits over the unused space.  
Prowl took a cautious step forward. He was _here_ , wherever here was.  
The place was empty, long abandoned and whatever he had been expecting, nothing wasn't it. All in all, Prowl suddenly felt incredibly foolish. He'd come here chasing a memory of something so very long ago. Why should there have been anything left?  
He moved further into the room, down into the depression as he searched the room for a clue for whatever had been here before. But there was nothing at all, the room was completely empty.  
Suddenly Prowl stiffened. He was being watched, he was certain of it.  
The realisation came too late; something struck the back of his neck and he sunk into darkness.  
  
He came online to the gentle murmur of conversation. Prowl did not move or switch on his optics. He would not let whoever had attacked him know that he was online.  
"You should not have hit him so hard," a voice chided gently.  
"I wasn't expecting this," another replied. "I may have panicked somewhat. He shouldn't have even been able to get inside."  
"How strange that the door just happened to open," the other mused.  
"Yes, it _is_ a bit strange. Master, I must know, what are you up to?"  
The first mech gave a quiet laugh. "So suspicious! I have not had a servo in this at all. What happens now is up to our guest."  
There was a rough exvent. "He is so new. Zeta recently onlined a batch, didn't he? The others must be around in Praxus somewhere, wondering where he's got to. I'll go find them."  
The second mech walked off and Prowl was left with the first speaker. After several long breems of silence, his watcher stirred. "It is alright," he said softly. "You are quite safe here. Your presence merely surprised Vibes and he reacted without thinking. In fact it is a bit shameful for him to make such a simple mistake."  
There was no point in pretending anymore. Prowl onlined to a friendly face smiling down at him. The mech had a highly modified XD995 frametype, he was far more bulkier than other mechs Prowl had seen. That was military grade armour, the new spark somehow knew.  
Prowl shuttered his optics once. Then he stiffened as a myriad of impressions slammed through his processor. 'No-!" he spluttered, clutching his helm in agony. A torrent of memories overlaid all of his senses, no, stop; he didn't want any of this-  
"Be calm," a soft voice murmured, though Prowl had no idea how he heard him when a thousand different voices were all speaking at the same time inside his head. Then, suddenly the storm inside him died as a wave of...serenity and peace suddenly washed over his fields.  
He onlined his optics -he didn't even remember switching them off- to the other mech in front of him, a steadying hand on his shoulder. Prowl stared up at him in awe, everything...everything inside of him was finally still! Not even Immobilizer had been able to calm his spark to this extent.  
"How did you do that?" he blurted in open relief and appreciation.  
The stranger laughed. "Well, that is just my little secret new spark." He flicked Prowl's helm with a teasing servo. "A calming exercise to center oneself which can easily be used to settle others."  
Prowl grabbed the other mech's hand, tugging it impatiently. "Can you teach me how to do it?" he asked earnestly.  
"Such manners!" the other scolded with an amused tone. "You have not even told me your name and I have not given you mine."  
The new spark gave an annoyed scowl. "Prowl," he answered, sending a quick databurst. " _Now_ can you teach me?"  
With his other hand, the older mech flicked his helm again. “ _Patience_ ,” he exvented in exasperation, “And _manners._ Both of them would serve you well.”  
Prowl let go of the other mech and settled back, realizing the other would not budge on this. “My apologies,” he said formally, though he was unable to hide the eagerness in his voice. “My designation is Prowl. What is yours?”  
“Yoketron,” the other replied warmly. “I am the Circuit-Su master of this dojo. Come along Prowl, I’ll show you some basic meditation techniques to help you keep your spark stable.”  
The young mech was quick to rise to his feet and follow Yoketron to the depression in the middle of the room. The plasma globes were brighter now, illuminating the room with a light blue glow. “What is Circuit-Su?” Prowl asked.  
“A battle technique,” the other mech answered, settling onto the floor. “It teaches a mech discipline, giving them the means to control themselves. It also provides them the tools to defend themselves.”  
Prowl accessed his databanks as he sat down in front of Yoketron. “It’s normally practiced by members of the Cyber-Ninja Corps,” he stated. He gave Yoketron an interested stare. “Are you one of them?”  
The mech laughed gaily. “Oh no. I’m not so impressive to be a part of their ranks. I am a simple practitioner of the arts. Now-” Yoketron drew a simple clear crystal from his subspace and placed it on the floor between them. “Turn off you optics, empty your mind of all thoughts and focus on this crystal. Let it be the only thing in your processor. Its shape, the dimensions, how much it would weigh, how light would pass through it from different sources…”  
Prowl offlined his optics and immersed himself in the lesson.  
  
They should have been more careful. No, _he_ should have been more careful. He’d been in Prowl’s spark, seen the things that his spark could still remember even though Prowl’s conscious mind did not. The mech _remembered_ Praxus and right now he could be anywhere in the city. There were hundreds of different places that each held their own importance to him.  
Immobilizer scowled as his latest lead turned out to be another dead-end. Tech-Gear had been left behind to mind the batch as the enforcer and Twist-Drill searched the city for their missing charge. Already they had sent out an alert to the local enforcers and the Praxus city networks to keep an optic out for him.  
So far, they had found nothing.  
How did a new spark vanish so thoroughly? It didn’t seem possible. They weren’t exactly the most inconspicuous mechs. And whilst they had received reports of Prowl’s path, no one knew where exactly he’d gotten to inside downtown Praxus.  
There was a flash of red in the corner of Immobilizer’s optic, then a vaguely familiar field brushed against him. The enforcer spun round and stared at the mech that had snuck up on him.  
“Vibes,” he asserted.  
The mech paused. “Interesting,” he commented lightly, as though used to random strangers knowing his name in the middle of a crowd. “I know your designation, but then again, I happen to be looking for you and your details are freely available on the infonet. How did you know mine?”  
Immobilizer paused, rocked to the core for a moment as he realised that he’d picked the mech from the imprint he’d given Prowl. “It’s…complicated,” he answered weakly.  
Vibes tilted his helm as he considered the mech in front of him. “Complicated huh? Well, I’m willing to learn how complicated it is if you’re willing to know where exactly a certain Prowl is.”  
Tension filled the enforcer instantly. He almost went for his shock baton before realizing - _remembering_ \- how dangerous the ninjabot in front of him really was. “I-”  
“Easy there friend,” the other mech interrupted, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “I don’t need to know right now. In fact, I’ll tell you where he is and you can pass the story to my friend, he’s looking after your missing mech.”  
Immobilizer narrowed his optics. “Just like that?” he challenged suspiciously.  
Vibes exvented roughly. “Look, I’m sorry I’ve accidentally given you the impression that we’ve kidnapped your charge. I was actually going to tell you where he was, out of the goodness of my spark and the likes but you kind of blindsided me with this whole ‘it’s-complicated’ business. This really hasn’t been my orn.”  
The ninjabot pinged him a set of co-ordinates and Immobilizer almost stalled. Yoketron’s dojo, of course. He should have realised Prowl would have headed to Immobilizer’s old mentor; his spark had known the mech well. Cold fear blossomed inside the enforcer as Prowl’s old memories rose, there were many secrets about the aged Circuit-Su master that he had known and Immobilizer hadn’t.  
And few of them were pleasant.  
He pushed away from Vibes, stalking off through the crowd. “You are welcome!” the ninjabot hollered after him.  
  
  
  
Yoketron was well prepared for when his old student stormed into his dojo. He’d guided Prowl through a few basic relaxation techniques, then left him to continue them on his own. The mech had picked them up unnaturally fast but that was not surprising. Yoketron knew exactly whose spark pulsed within Prowl’s chamber. It would seem history had come full circle.  
But it did not matter. Prowl was a new individual and he was unsettled, grasping for some measure of control of himself. The old ninjabot was happy to teach him the necessary discipline, basic Circuit-Su techniques in order to give him some semblance of a normal functioning. Nothing more though. Not everyone was suited to be a cyber-ninja and he would never in a million vorns dare to lead Prowl on such a path. His spark had passed on from that life and Yoketron could not begrudge him for that.  
Vibes had contacted him the moment he’d located Immobilizer. Yoketron had watched the resulting conversation with interest, surprised at his student’s knowledge of Vibes’ designation. As far as the two ninjabots were aware, Vibes and Immobilizer had never met. Vibes made sure no one ever observed him when he entered Yoketron’s dojo and never showed his presence to anyone who was not a member of the Corps. Similarly, Yoketron did not advertise his oqn involvement in the Corps, having since retired from most of its operations. Whilst it was known that mechs that trained under him sometimes went on to to become cyber-ninjas, Yoketron never revealed that he had been involved in their selection.  
Immobilizer had been one of his former students but he had shown a steady inclination to the enforcers and so Yoketron had never disclosed his cyber-ninja background to him. The enforcer’s unexpected knowledge was…dangerous in some ways. Had there been some sort of security breach in the Corps? The old ninjabot was determined to find out. Immobilizer had always been a respectful student and hopefully would speak easily with his mentor.  
When Immobilizer stepped into the dojo, he was not surprised to see his old master waiting for him. “Where’s Prowl?” he demanded bluntly.  
Yoketron raised an optic at the other mech’s hostility but gestured down to the training floor. “He is well,” he answered.  
The mech in question onlined his optics and looked up at Immobilizer. A smile slowly blossomed across his face. Prowl was relaxed and looked rather comfortable.  
“Hello Immobilizer,” he called out pleasantly.  
The enforcer was disorientated for a moment by how…content the new spark was. He shot his old master a look but Yoketron was his usual unreadable, cheerful self. “Hello Prowl,” he said, forcing himself to be polite. “You gave us quite a scare disappearing on us.”  
The smile slowly faded as Prowl took in Immobilizer’s tense posture and realised how worried he was. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t even think-”  
“No, you didn’t,” his mentor cut in shortly. Prowl frowned unhappily, no one had ever reprimanded him before and the new spark looked distinctly uneasy at what was to come. “You did not answer your comm, you did not let any of us know where you were, and you _endangered_ yourself by coming here unescorted! What would you have done if you have been attacked? You aren’t even a stellar cycle old!”  
“Easy,” Yoketron said softly. He could see how the inner peace that Prowl had worked so hard to attain was about to shatter. “He knows better now and will not make the same mistake.”  
Immobilizer span round, angered by the ninjabot’s interruption. “He-” Yoketron’s hand clamped down hard on the enforcer’s arm and turned him to look properly at his charge. Prowl was downright miserable and contrite. Immobilizer deflated.  
“Come,” Yoketron tugged him away and gave Prowl an encouraging smile. “Excuse us for a moment, us old mechs need to have a talk. It might take a while so try repeating the exercises I taught you.”  
The enforcer darkened at this but watched as Prowl immediately cheered up. He hesitated and pulled away from Yoketron’s grasp. “Are you enjoying what Yoketron taught you?” he asked.  
Prowl carefully considered them both. “Yes,” he answered decisively. “He knows many interesting things. If it was possible…I would like to stay here a little longer to learn more. I know you want to go see the other cities but I like it here.”  
Immobilizer gave a curt nod then allowed himself to be drawn away. Yoketron settled them at the far end of the room so they would be able to converse in private but still be able to keep an optic out on Prowl.  
The ninjabot’s calm countenance was completely opposite to the anger that was still simmering away inside his companion. “I don’t like this,” the enforcer spoke slowly but there was no denying the force in his voice.  
Yoketron followed Immobilizer’s gaze to the training floor where his latest pupil was sitting in a basic meditation posture. “Is there a problem?” the cyber-ninja asked, careful to keep his voice mildly curious and utterly oblivious.  
Immobilizer turned back to his former mentor with a frown. “He is a coherent spark and was suffering from trauma that was restricting his core codes. It was decided a spark imprint was the best way to treat it and he requested that I should provide it. When I gave him the imprint…I caught some of his memories by accident. You know him,” he stated firmly.  
“I have no idea what you are on about,” Yoketron replied blithely. “And those memory files should have been purged immediately or firewalled away.”  
The enforcer ignored him and leant forward and grabbed Yoketron’s wrist tightly in warning. “His former existence knew you. Knew you very well. It is illegal to influence new sparks, coherent or otherwise, into people who have passed on. He was a cyber-ninja, wasn’t he? And you would train him to be one again.”  
Yoketron tilted his helm and evaluated Prowl again. “No,” he said calmly. “No, I am afraid I don’t know what you are talking about. I’d not met Prowl before this orn when he scurried into my dojo.”  
The enforcer relaxed his grip slightly. “It would be best if perhaps things could return to that state.”  
“What, we should suddenly forget our acquaintance?” Yoketron courteously handed over a cube of energon from his subspace. “Such negative energies,” he chided. “I think I should feel ashamed at how easily I have lost your regard. You have never hesitated to put your trust and faith in me before.”  
“That was before I looked into Prowl’s spark and learnt that you are a war criminal,” Immobilizer said darkly, not even looking at his cube. “The things that you have done, without remorse and hesitation...I cannot in good conscience entrust him to you, ever.”  
The cyber ninja’s smile never faltered. “That was a very long time ago,” he murmured. “I was a different mech then.”  
“You are not,” Immobiliser rebuked sharply. “It frightens me to realise that you are capable of making such decisions rationally. It frightens me to realise you could make them again even now.”  
Yoketron composure finally cracked. He stiffened and all traces of warmth vanished from his posture. “Such are the necessities of war. It is so easy to judge when you have never been in the thick of it and likely never will. I thought I had taught you better than this.” His voice was colder than ice. At this moment, there was no mistaking that Yoketron was a dangerous mech; that a relentless killer lurked beneath his affable façade.  
Cowed, Immobilizer ducked his head. But he was not so easily deterred. “What are you doing here?”  
The ninjabot arched an optic. “I believe I am in my dojo, sharing energon with an old pupil who is making some very hurtful accusations against me. Why? Are you experiencing something entirely different?”  
“Do not test me,” the enforcer warned. “The Prime and the Corps might be content to overlook your crimes but I will not. What do you intend to do with Prowl?”  
Yoketron sighed and glanced back to the training mats. “I am an old mech,” he muttered tiredly. “I now do nothing more than pass on the arts to the troubled sparks that need it. And Prowl is one mech in desperate need for my teachings, regardless of my past acquaintance with his spark. If he remained here, all I wish is to teach him calmness, how to settle himself so that he can lead a normal life. I have no plans for him, no desire to bring back the long dead.”  
Immobilizer leaned forward, optics flashing in warning. “Your teachings would eventually bring him back to the cyber-ninja way. From what I’ve seen in his mind, he very much wants to be a new person, a new individual. Prowl does not need your influence in his life. He should not even be here.”  
The ninjabot waved his companion forward. “By all means, I see now that you are not listening to me,” he said calmly. “Do what you will. Take Prowl away from here. I will not stop you.”  
Pleased, the enforcer stood up to leave, placing his untouched cube of energon on the floor. “Of course,”Yoketron’s voice rang out thoughtfully, “I will not stop him either if he wishes to return. He is a free mech after all.”  
Immobilizer's anger flared. "He is a new spark entrusted to my care," he said stiffly. "I will not allow him to be subjected to your machinations."  
The aged ninjabot gave a careless shrug as he calmly refueled on the cube Immobilizer had discarded. "I think you'll find he is independent enough to make his own choices. If you saw as deeply into his spark as you claim, you'd realise he is not one to be controlled by anyone."  
"I am not trying to control him!" the enforcer protested, deeply offended. "I am trying to do the best for him."  
Yoketron watched him with all too perceptive optics. "I wonder if that's how Prowl will see it," he murmured almost to himself. “In fact…this is not like you, Immobilizer. You are never so obtuse and unwilling to listen to someone. I wonder why you can’t see that.”  
“What are you on about now?” the enforcer glared.  
“Aside from my sordid history and far too many secrets of the Cyber-Ninja Corps, just what else did you take away when you looked into Prowl’s spark?” the ninjabot asked carefully.  
It took him a moment, then Immobilizer stiffened with realisation. “Primus,” he whispered in stunned disbelief. “You are right. This is not _me_.” His servos curled into fists as he sagged in shock. “This…this has been a complete breach of his privacy. Your privacy even.”  
“According to the law, everything you took from Prowl’s spark should have never been accessed, at least until he reached his majority and decided he wanted to know,” Yoketron murmured with concern. “That way Prowl would be able to have an unhindered existence. Yet you, an enforcer of the law, have chosen to go digging through a dead mech’s life and are almost…possessive in your regard for Prowl. No, that is not like you at all.”  
Immobilizer shuddered and switched off his optics. “But you know who this is like.”  
Yoketron gave a thin smile. “I was very well acquainted with him as you have made clear.”  
“Is this permanent?”  
The ninjabot disinterestedly examined his empty energon cube. “It shouldn’t be,” he answered. “I could of course offer some help with that but then again, I am a ruthless and callous individual who cannot be trusted with anything.”  
The enforcer flinched at his sharp words, recognising the rebuke. Yes, he had been harsh with his mentor, forgetting the many metacycles they had spent together as Yoketron had taught him Circuit-Su and instead judging him for his actions several lifetimes ago. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  
Yoketron gave him a calm and assessing look. “But you still think that Prowl should not be here.”  
“Yes.” On that Immobilizer was steadfast. The law was very clear about this and Yoketron was treading a very fine line as it was.  
The ninjabot nodded him down to the training floor. “Very well. In time, I am certain we can work something out. Now allow me to sort out the mess you’ve made of your spark…”  
The enforcer hesitated for a moment. “What are you going to do about my knowledge of the Corps?” there was no hiding the worry in Immobilizer’s voice. He trusted Yoketron, yes, but he also knew the lengths he was capable of going to protect the Corps.  
Yoketron gave him a slow and unworried smile. “Oh, nothing, nothing,” he said cheerfully, ushering Immobilizer forth. After a pause, he leant closer and added quietly, “I’ll let _Vibes_ take care of that.”  
Prowl had onlined his optics at their approach and had been watching Immobilizer with resentment. He had realised the full implications of his actions as soon as he saw how worried and stressed the enforcer was. He’d be more careful in future; there was no doubt about that. There hadn’t been any need to be yelled at at all.  
Then Yoketron moved closer and whispered something near Immobilizer’s audials and his mentor’s countenance plunged into horror.  
Yoketron was the coolest person ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have discovered my OCs have the unfortunate habit of getting lives of their own. They even go crazy like my canons. Just what kind of universe is this? Is no one sane here?? What mind crack spawned this...?


End file.
